


The Mysterious Mrs Gold

by dreadwolftakeme



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Multi, some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-16 20:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9287834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadwolftakeme/pseuds/dreadwolftakeme
Summary: When the Evil Queen cast her curse, Rumplestiltskin had asked her for but one thing: for comfort, for a good life. And to be fair to Regina, she'd kept her promise. However, she also gave him something he hadn't asked for - a wife. With his memories recovered, the Dark One finds himself wondering who she is and precisely why Regina decided to tether her to him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so before anyone gets too upset, I adore RumBelle. I also love GoldenQueen. And this story is probably going to end up being the former... EVENTUALLY. However, I intend to have a little fun first. ;) I don't expect many people will want to read this but that's ok; I'm just throwing it out there, just in case. 
> 
> Also, I headcanon that Mr. Gold's first name is Aiden. Don't know why, it just fits him (say it Bobby's lovely accent and see for yourself). Let me know in the comments if you have your own hc! Always interested to know. 
> 
> *I'm my own beta - sorry if there are any mistakes!*
> 
> **Also, if you're just here for smut... it's Chapter 3 ;)**

Chapter One

 

 

 

 

“ _Swan. Emma Swan_.”

The rush of realization was dizzying. Regina; the Curse; him sitting in his cell, writing that name over and over with the last reserves of his precious squid ink. The blonde woman standing at the check-in desk was attractive but unassuming. Nothing about her screamed ‘Saviour’ or ‘Chosen One’. However, when she turned to acknowledge him, he could see her father in those clear blue eyes, her mother in the point of her delicate chin.

“Emma,” he murmured, testing the name on his tongue as he hadn’t done for decades. “What a lovely name.”

“Thanks.”

The widow handed him a neat roll of bills and he took it graciously.

“It’s all here.”

“Yes, yes, of course it is dear. Thank you. You enjoy your stay… Emma.”

He offered her his most charming and genuine smile and she nodded politely, if a little warily.

_You’re right to be wary, dearie. You’ll need that instinct if you’ve any chance of fulfilling your destiny._

Once out in the street, he no longer felt compelled to suppress his smirk. He was back. It had been twenty-eight long years but he was back, just as he’d trusted he would be.

He was abuzz with energy as he strolled down the main street, drinking in Storybrooke as though through new eyes. Not the most attractive town certainly, he noted, but he couldn’t deny his former apprentice had been incredibly thorough. The slight tang of salt in the air tickled his nose. The golden head of his cane was chilly beneath his fingers – an interesting touch, he noted with bitter amusement. How she could possibly have known about his old injury was beyond him but he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. The townsfolk greeted him as they passed, if a little curtly, and he allowed his old memories to blend into his new ones. Ruby Lucas, the werewolf. The former cricket, Dr. Hopper - good grief, had Regina no subtlety? Mary Margaret Blanchard, a.k.a. Snow White herself. She looked positively alarmed to be noticed by him and he smirked, lowering his gaze. He couldn’t deny, Regina had held up her end of the bargain. He had his power. He had his comfort. He had…

His eyes fell on the thin band of gold that circled his left ring finger.  His wedding ring. The memory washed over him like a wave of ice cold water. He had a wife. Aiden Gold had a wife.

Rumplestiltskin stopped dead in his tracks as his true life and his cursed life melded in his mind. He had hundreds of memories of the woman since the curse had been cast and, beneath that, there was a misty, tangled web of images that had to be Regina’s planted backstory. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t match her face to anyone he had encountered in the Enchanted Forest and that unnerved him. Who was she?

He resumed his stride, though he didn’t stop at the shop as he’d originally intended. Instead, he got straight in his car and commenced the short drive back to his house.

A wife. There had never been any mention of a spouse when he and Regina had hashed out the details of his new life. There was a chance that she might simply have assumed; after all, love often factored in to most people’s idea of a happy ending. However, he had serious doubts. Regina rarely did anything without good reason, which begged the question – who was this woman?

It was late on a Thursday morning and his curse memories told Rumple that Mrs Evelyn Gold rarely worked on Thursdays. Why would she? She was married to the richest man in town; being a lady of leisure was one of the perks. He recalled that he’d often told her he saw no reason for her to work at all, though she had insisted. Apparently, she enjoyed it.

He found her in the kitchen, humming to herself as she removed groceries from the brown paper bags on the counter. He knew he’d seen her do so before but he found himself watching her as though it were the very first time. She was attractive, no two ways about it. Petite and curvaceous, with a mane of platinum blonde waves that reached almost to her waist. Her clothing was simple but elegant, giving her an air of modern glamour not dissimilar to Regina’s. She was, in short, nothing like the women he’d loved in his past and he had to wonder if it had been a deliberate choice on Regina’s part. There had to be some reason she’d chosen this particular girl. But what was it?

He took a shuffling step into the kitchen and Evelyn started, whirling around with a bag of coffee grinds still in her hand. Her wide green eyes found him and instantly softened, lips curling in a smile.

“It’s you,” she breathed, visibly relieved. “You made me jump! I wasn’t expecting you home for hours.”

She had an accent – English, his curse memories supplied – and the look she gave him was one of genuine affection. Hands tipped with crimson talons set down the coffee grinds. She sashayed over to him, all coy smile and lowered lashes, and twined her arms around his neck. Rumple stiffened instantly.

“Did you miss me?”

Her voice was a purr, low and playful, and it took great strength for him not to push her away. Despite the fact that he knew he’d woken up in the same bed as her that morning, the woman was a veritable stranger to him. The real Rumplestiltskin hadn’t known a woman’s touch since Belle. Belle and her bright blue eyes, her patient, forgiving smile. It pained him to think of her, especially now, wrapped in arms of this girl who was nothing like her.

“What’s wrong?” Evelyn asked, frowning up at him. “Is everything ok?”

Rumple swallowed down his melancholy.

“Fine, dear,” he murmured, and he set a perfunctory kiss on her brow. “Just a little tired.”

She continued to frown appraisingly for a moment before simply shrugging, kissing his cheek and turning back to her groceries.

“Are you hungry? I was just about to make some lunch.”

A memory surged to the forefront of his mind: Evelyn, standing with her back to the stove, lifting a forkful of something rich and buttery to his lips; he chasing the fork, capturing her mouth in a kiss whilst she giggled with delight. She was a good cook, he knew that much, and sharing a meal would be the perfect way to observe her a little longer.

“I suppose I can linger,” he agreed. “Just tell me what I can do.”

He slipped off the jacket of his suit, folding it neatly over the back of a chair, before rolling up his shirtsleeves.

As it happened, he needn’t have bothered, for Evelyn seemed more than happy to do most of the work. Perhaps she didn’t trust him to do it correctly – he did have very little experience with cooking, even after all his years in this magic-free land – or perhaps she was simply being kind. Whatever the reason, he mostly watched as she threw together a simple but hearty pasta dish, helping when and where she would allow it and observing otherwise. The way she handled a knife made him suspect she was plenty used to using one. Her poise and grace as she moved around the kitchen spoke of years of training, something she couldn’t possibly have learnt as the owner of a beauty salon. Whether she remembered it or not, her body clearly recalled a life as more than a simple beautician. And that only fed his suspicions. Who _was_ she?

“You know, I had the most peculiar dream last night,” he mused, as they sat down together to eat. Evelyn had fetched a bottle of chilled white wine from the fridge and he poured her a glass, hoping to loosen her tongue a little.

“Do tell,” she smiled.

“It was the strangest thing, so vivid it could almost have been a memory. I dreamt I was a sorcerer and that Mayor Mills was my apprentice, and I was helping her to craft a curse that would carry us all to a distant land. Can you imagine?”

He made a show of eating but he was in fact watching her very closely, scrutinizing her face for even the barest hint of recognition. He saw none. If she had any awareness of who she really was, she hid it well.

“Mayor Mills your apprentice and not me?” she laughed, her green eyes glittering over the rim of her wine glass. “I’m almost offended. Then again, I’ve always thought she was a bit of a witch.”

She grinned, a mischievous thing, and he couldn’t resist a smirk of his own.

“Quite,” he chuckled. “Have you ever had such dreams, love? Dreams you might have sworn were real?”

Evelyn frowned, genuine confusion wrinkling her brow.

“I… don’t remember my dreams,” she answered slowly, after a beat. “I mean, I must have them,” she added. “Everyone does, right? But I never seem to remember them for some reason.” 

That was peculiar but Rumplestiltskin refrained from comment, lifting his fork to his lips as he pondered this new morsel of information. Strange as it was, it didn’t ring any particular alarm bells so he let it be.

The rest of the meal was pleasant though uneventful. Evelyn was sharp-witted and charming, precisely as his memories of her detailed. As much as he didn’t trust who she might be underneath, her Storybrooke persona was engaging at least.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked again, as he helped her clear up the dishes. “You seem a little… off today.”

 “I’m fine,” he assured her. “Though, I might be late back tonight. I’ve a few things I need to get done.”

_Like finding out exactly who you are._

Evelyn was apparently used to hearing such things, for she simply smiled and held up his jacket for him.

“Not a problem,” she assured him. “A couple of the girls mentioned going out for drinks so I’m sure I can find something to do.”

Nodding, Rumple slipped his arms into the sleeves of his jacket and turned to bid his wife farewell. He was taken aback when she placed her hands on his shoulders, rising up onto her tiptoes expectantly. Of course – she would want a kiss, wouldn’t she? Aiden Gold always kissed his wife goodbye. And yet, despite knowing he’d done it a hundred times before, it felt utterly bizarre to lean in to her lips as his true self. He kissed her slowly, curiously, exploring the shape of her mouth and the taste of her tongue as it flickered against his own.  It was a brief thing but still her cheeks were flushed when he pulled away and her eyes as bright as diamonds. She smirked, biting her bottom lip and evoking a visceral reaction from him that took him entirely by surprise. How interesting.

“I guess I’ll see you later, then,” she murmured. Rumple cleared his throat and nodded.

“Aye. That you will.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr Gold hunts for evidence regarding his wife's true identity.

 

Chapter Two

 

It had been exceptionally late indeed when Rumplestiltskin had finally shut up shop that night. He’d ransacked his inventory for hours, looking for any scrap of information he could find on Evelyn Gold. Of course, it had been fruitless. He had never really expected otherwise – after all, he knew nothing of her true identity. No, if he was going to find out anything, Regina would be the key and that was a card he didn’t want to play quite yet.

Thankfully, Evelyn had been asleep by the time he’d gotten home. He’d been able to slip into bed without waking her, thus avoiding her questions – at least, for the time being. For a few moments, he’d entertained the idea of sleeping in the other bedroom but decided against it. The last thing he wanted was for anything to get back to Regina that might make her suspect. Not before he was ready.

He awoke the next morning to find a cup of tea steaming away on the bedside cabinet. Evelyn’s side of the bed was empty, the blankets neatly made. The door to their en-suite was open a touch and he could hear her inside, singing as she moved around.

It took a moment or two for the fog of sleep to clear from his mind but, when it did, it occurred to him exactly what was going on next door. The thought made him uncomfortable. He was contemplating making himself scarce, heading downstairs with his tea, when the door swung open. He was too late. Evelyn breezed into the room, her hair loose and cascading down her back, her body covered only by a fluffy damson towel.

“Morning, love,” she trilled, flashing him a brilliant smile. “You were late home last night.”

“Um, yes,” he responded, clearing his throat. “I, er, found a few discrepancies in the inventory. Thought we had missing stock but thankfully it was just a couple of cataloguing errors.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

Evelyn stopped in front of her dressing table, rummaging briefly through a little drawer before straightening up again. The towel fell to the floor and Rumple was glad that he hadn’t touched his tea yet because he would likely have choked.  He’d _seen this before_ , he rationalized, as his eyes dropped to the bedsheets and heat crept up his face. He tried to remind himself that he had dozens of memories of his wife like this, of them both like this. Seeing it in person, though… _God_. He couldn’t help but watch as she stepped into her knickers and rolled a pair of sheer, lace-topped stockings up the creamy length of each of her legs. Modern underwear was nothing short of miraculous, he decided. The way it just sat there, framing every curve like a second skin…

“Something wrong, honey?”

He caught her eyes in the mirror and found her smirking at him. It seemed he’d been caught staring.

“No, no, nothing at all,” he mumbled, trying and failing not to blush. Evelyn laughed.

“Why Mr. Gold, you’re as pink whore’s boudoir!” she teased. “What’s the matter… see something you want?”

She turned to face him, leaning coyly back on the dresser and displaying herself in the grey morning light. She was a feast for the eyes and she knew it. He’d tried not to gawp, truly, but it had been such a damn long time since he – his true self, at least – had had the opportunity. His eyes raked up and down her body, devouring every curve, lingering on her bare breasts.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. Evelyn grinned.

“Hm, I love that I can still evoke that reaction from you,” she purred.

All smiles and glittering eyes, she inched towards him and began to crawl up the bed - a wolf stalking her prey. Rumple backed up against the headboard instinctively. He’d been content to look; this he hadn’t expected.

“Evelyn,” he began, hesitantly. But his wife simply smiled. She crawled up his body until she was straddling his hips, pinning him beneath the covers. Her fingers tangled in his sleep-ruffled hair and, before he could think to protest, she was kissing him again.

He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised by the sudden surge of desire that lanced through him. She was a beautiful woman and he was only human.  Intrigued, he pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her tongue flickered against his lips and he parted for her, swallowing her tiny moan. She smelled sweet and fresh, tasted like mint. Her skin was silky and warm beneath his fingers as he raked them up her back, pleased by the way she quivered. Responsive. He liked that in a woman. Emboldened, he began to trail his lips over her jaw and down the column of her throat. Evelyn hummed with pleasure, leaning eagerly into his touch. Her pulse was fluttering like a butterfly trapped in glass and he couldn’t resist the urge to bite down.

“Mmm, Aiden,” she gasped, rolling her hips against his.

Rumple’s hands glided down her back, cupping and squeezing her rear. He could feel the blood rushing southwards as arousal twisted low in his belly. He could have her, he realized, with a glimmer of intrigue. It would be so easy.

Evelyn’s fingers trailed down his face, however, cupping his jaw and pulling them gently apart.

“Alright,” she chuckled. “As tempting as it is to stay right here, I’ve got to get dressed. I have early appointments this morning.”

She tried to slip away but Rumple seized her wrists, bringing the left to his lips. There was a tattoo there, he noted with mild interest, a tiny, flaming heart, and he licked it, smirking when she gasped.

“Tease,” he accused.

“It’s called delayed gratification, my love,” she whispered in reply and she winked, a truly wicked smile curling her plump lips. “Don’t worry, though – I’ll let you have it _any way you want_ when I get home tonight.”

And then she was gone, slipping out of his reach and off the bed. Gold stared after her. He watched her pluck a demure, crimson dress out of the armoire and step into it, the supple fabric clinging to her curves. Beneath the muddle of sheets and blankets, he was hard and the fact surprised him. Evelyn

 

wasn’t what he wanted. No, the only woman he truly wanted was lost to him forever. However, the Dark One was nothing if not opportunistic…

 

**

 

It was in the spirit of opportunity that when, later that day, Gold happened to walk past the Town Hall and see Regina in the grounds, he decided on a little impromptu investigation.

It wasn’t particularly difficult to slip in to the Mayor’s office. After all, it was past six and most of the staff had already left for the night. The door was shut but not locked, thanks to Regina still being on the premises, and it didn’t take much for even a man with a cane to enter unnoticed. However, he would have to be quick. He could explain away his being in her office but he doubted that ransacking the place would be as easy to shrug off.

So he searched carefully, making sure to replace anything he moved. He wasn’t entirely certain that he’d find anything on Evelyn in there. If Regina was smart, she’d have more than one hiding place for her secrets and it would hopefully be less obvious than her office. Then again, he reminded himself with a smirk, this was the woman who thought sacrificing a bloody horse would be enough to enact the Dark Curse. She could be astoundingly complacent at times.

There was little there that he didn’t expect to find. Records, papers, the odd personal trinket… In truth, he was surprised by the number of official documents he came across. It appeared Regina was taking her role as mayor more seriously than he’d have guessed.

He tried the filing cabinet behind her desk. The first drawer was full of banking statements and tax returns. The second, however, contained files on various members of the town. A quick glance revealed that most of them were filled with press clippings, police reports and bits of handwritten correspondence – all petty, personal grievances that Rumple had no interest in. To his surprise, there was a file for ‘Gold, Evelyn’ tucked amongst them. He retrieved it with no small amount of anticipation, noting that it was light and almost empty. Inside, there were no papers but there was a single plastic bag containing a silver locket. Rumplestiltskin frowned, tipping it out onto his palm. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been for the fact it was almost _vibrating_ with magic. He turned it over and that was when he noticed the engraving – a tiny, flaming heart. It was the very same symbol that Evelyn had tattooed on her wrist and his heart leapt with triumph. There was no way it couldn’t be hers. Whether it was important or not, he couldn’t say, but he pocketed it all the same, sliding the drawer smoothly shut. Time was ticking on. He didn’t want to push his luck by lingering too long so he left the office, closing the door behind him and heading for the building’s rear exit.

Regina was still in the grounds, tending to that infernal tree of hers. He could have avoided her, had he wanted to, but his little victory had put him in a good mood and he fancied himself a bit of fun. So he took the path through the gardens, as boldly as if he hadn’t just been just been searching her private office.

“What a mess.”

Regina didn’t turn around, though he noted the stiffening of her shoulders

“Not for long,” she answered, crisply. “What can I do for you, Mr Gold?”

“I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I’d pop by. Lovely to see you in such high spirits.”

He smirked, feeling the weight of the stolen necklace in his pocket.

“Well, it’s been a good day. I just rid the town of an unwanted nuisance.”

That have him pause. Naturally, he was keeping abreast of the situation with Miss Swan and last he’d heard, she had no intention of going anywhere.

“Emma Swan. Really?” he murmured, injecting just enough disbelief into his voice to plant a seed of doubt. Regina, however, smiled smugly.

“Yes. I imagine she’s halfway to Boston by now.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t bet on that,” Rumple smiled right back. “I’ve just seen her strolling down the main street with your boy. Thick as thieves, they seemed.”

It wasn’t a lie; he had seen Henry with the Swan woman, albeit a tad earlier that he was letting on. Just as he’d expected, Regina’s smug façade crumpled at the news, replaced by an all too familiar icy glare.

“What?”

“Perhaps you should have come to me,” he suggested, and really, it was getting hard not to laugh in her face now. “If Miss Swan is a problem you can’t fix, I’m only to happy to help. For a price, of course.”

Regina scowled.

“I’m not in the business of making deals with you anymore,” she spat.

The Dark One cocked his head.

“To which deal are you referring?”

“You know what deal!”

“Oh, right. Yeah. The boy I procured for you: Henry. Did I ever tell you what a lovely name that was? How ever did you pick it?”

Regina’s eyes flashed with fury.

“Did you want her to come to town?” she hissed, throwing up her hands. “You wanted all this to happen, didn’t you? Your finding Henry wasn’t an accident, was it?

“Whatever did you mean?” was Rumple’s innocent reply. Regina was having none of it.

“Where did you get him?” she demanded. “Do you know something?

“I have no idea what you’re implying.”

“I think you do. Who is this woman, his mother this…. Emma Swan?”

Rumple let a dangerous smirk tug at the corners of his lips, delighting in the way Regina only just refrained from recoiling.

“I would say you think you know exactly who she is,” he uttered. “Now I really must be going. My wife will be fixing dinner.”

The mayor could only stand and blink for a moment. However, she was not stunned for long. Placing her hands on her hips, she planted herself resolutely Rumple’s path, refusing to let him leave. Rumple sighed.

“Tell me what you know about Emma,” she ground out.

“I’m not going to answer you, dear,” replied Rumple, flatly. “So I suggest you excuse me. _Please_.”

Regina’s eyes widened in horror and recognition at the pleasantry. She stood stock still, as though she’d been petrified, and she didn’t so much as call after him as he made his way out onto the main street. He’d never anticipated his ‘please’s would be so effective. He doubted it had been magic, per se. There was no magic in this world, after all, save the tiny remnants squirrelled away. Nevertheless, there was something deliciously satisfying about Regina doing as she was told for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank to you to everyone who's taking the time to read this! ^_^ I'm genuinely surprised. 
> 
> Just a heads up, I'll probably have to change the rating next chapter as there will likely be smut. Hope that's not an issue!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Mr Gold is robbed and injured by a desperate Ashley, he's forced to turned to Evelyn for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had more planned for this chapter but the smut... well the smut happened. I would say I'm sorry but I'm not. ;)
> 
> Guess you'll just have to wait a little longer for Evelyn to reveal herself.

 

Chapter Three

 

Pain throbbed in his right temple as he regained consciousness. His eyes were stinging and he’d fallen hard on his bad leg. It took him a moment to recall what had happened but the sight of the open wall safe brought it all flooding back: Ashley.

Rumple sat up with a groan, his head swimming and his vision blurred. He hadn’t planned on the girl having the nerve to defy him but, now that she had, he supposed he could turn it to his advantage. After all, there could be only one person who’d put her up to it. He knew Emma Swan’s type too well. With the right words, he felt confident he could get her right where he wanted her. A debt from the Savior was worth more than any baby.

First things first though; he could feel the blood trickling down his face. Apparently, Ashley had managed to do some damage, albeit incidentally. He needed to see to his wounds. Not being able to actually _see_ , however, would certainly be a hindrance to that. His eyes were still burning from whatever wicked potion she’d sprayed in his face. Mace, did they call it? Whatever it was, it was vile.

Mercifully, fate chose that moment to throw him a bone. The cell phone in his pocket began to chime and he managed to reach in to grab to grab it, flipping it open.

“So you do answer your phone! I’ve been calling for the last half an hour, where are you?”

It was Evelyn. 

“I’m at the shop,” he muttered. 

“Really? I called there too, why didn’t you answer?”

“I couldn’t… there’s been an incident.”

A pause, followed by a hasty breath. She was worried; how touching. 

“An incident – what do you mean?" she asked. "Are you alright?”

“Don’t panic, it’s not serious. But I could use your assistance.”

“Ok sure, I’ll get my car keys. Do you want me to call-?”

“No. No doctors. No police. I’ll explain when you get here.”

She sounded for a moment like she was going to argue the toss. However, she clearly thought better of it and he heard her sigh with something akin to exasperation.

“Alright, I’m on my way.”

Rumple flipped the phone shut, slipping it back into this pocket where the necklace he'd stolen from Regina was still hidden. It was a mercy that Ashley wasn't after riches. If she'd robbed him of that too, well, he'd have been forced to make things rather unpleasant for her. There was no need for that... not yet, at least. 

Evelyn must have driven like the devil himself were on her tail for it didn’t take long at all for her to arrive. He heard her key in the lock of the front door, hear her gasp as she saw him propped up against the counter.

“Oh my God!” she cried and she was beside him in several rapid steps, kneeling down next to him. “What happened to you, love? Who did this?”

“It’s nothing to be too concerned about,” he assured her. “The desperate act of a desperate girl. I’m going to deal with it in the morning but right now…. Right now, I need your help with this.”

He gestured vaguely to his face.

“Of course,” she murmured. “Let’s get you up.”

She slipped an arm around his shoulders and, together, they managed to hobble into the back room. Evelyn eased him gently onto the cot.

“So are you going to tell me what did this?” she asked. “What happened to your face?”

“Pepper spray,” Rumple answered with a sigh. “It burns less that it did immediately but my vision is still blurred.”

“And your head? It’s bleeding.”

“That wasn’t actually her. I must have hit it when I fell.”

She hummed, a sound of sympathy, and he felt her fingers cup his face, turning his head towards her. Blearily, he could see her face, her pink-painted lips pursed in concern as she inspected his injury.

“It isn’t deep, thankfully,” she uttered. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches. Let me just fetch something to clean it with and then I’ll dress it for you.”

She smiled, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before tottering off, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. Rumple stared after her, just about able to follow her form with his watering eyes.

“There’s a first aid kit on the shelf behind the desk,” he told her, though he wasn’t surprised to see her heading that way already. She moved around his shop the way she did his home – with ease and familiarity. He wasn’t entirely sure how that made him feel.

“You’re remarkably calm about all this,” she observed, as she sat down on the cot beside him. “I’ve seen you out for blood for far smaller transgressions than bodily harm.”

She glanced down to rummage in the kit, producing a wad of gauze and a little bottle of antiseptic liquid, but the slight lilt to her lips did not go unnoticed. She found his vengeful nature amusing, he noted. Not frightening or abhorrent: amusing. How very interesting.

“Yes, well,” he replied. “The girl’s an unusual case and going in guns blazing won’t get me what I want.”

Something cool and wet was pressed to his temple. Evelyn dabbed his wound gently and the initial sting of the antiseptic was replaced by the soothing tingle of numbness. Rumple closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. His head was throbbing. The skin around his eyes still burned and he wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed and write the whole evening off. He could deal with Emma Swan and the girl in the morning. His wife, however, was having none of it.

“Hey! Don’t you dare go to sleep,” she chastised, shaking his shoulder. “You’ve suffered a blow to the head, you could have a concussion!”

“Nonsense,” he muttered, though he knew she was probably right. He already felt a bit drowsy and he knew it was unwise to give in to it. And yet…

A sudden weight in his lap made him grunt, made his eyes snap open. He had to blink a few times before he could see much but, when he did, he found himself looking into Evelyn’s face, scant inches from his own.

“Aiden,” she coaxed. “Honey. Come on. This is no time to sleep.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Aiden Gold.” Her tone was firm, the sort that brooked no argument – quite at odds with the impish smile that was creeping over her face. “Do I need to get creative to keep you awake?”

Rumple raised a brow.

“Creative?” he murmured. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

Evelyn laughed, low and sultry, and suddenly her meaning was all too clear. Curiosity stirred somewhere in the back of his mind. Thus far, by sheer chance, the opportunity for intimacy hadn’t arisen – something had always gotten in the way. But he’d be lying if he said some part of him wasn’t still intrigued.

“Ah, I see,” Rumple smirked. “Well, you’re welcome to try, dearie. I’m certainly not going to stop you.”

Evelyn bit her lip.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Lifting his chin, the blonde leaned in and kissed him. It was slow and sensuous, almost teasing, and it lasted far too briefly for Rumple’s liking before she moved on. Her lips marked a trail along his jaw, down his throat, kisses punctuated by flashes of teeth and tongue.  The Dark One hummed, leaning into the touch. He could feel the embers of arousal smouldering to life within him. Credit it where it was due, the girl knew how to heat a man’s blood. The fingers loosening his tie, toying with his top button, were clever indeed. And that mouth! The mouth nipping at newly uncovered skin was positively _wicked_. Even the throbbing in his head, the burning of his eyes, seemed like mere trifles, miles away, in light of what she was doing to him.

“Suddenly feeling much less drowsy,” Rumple growled, letting his head fall back in invitation. Evelyn grinned.

“I should hope so,” she purred. “Though I’m far from done with you…”

She pressed a feather light kiss behind his ear before slipping off his lap to kneel at his feet. Glittering, green eyes, full of mischief, peered up at him and Rumple’s pulse quickened. So _this_ was her intention? Well, who was he to refuse her. It had been a long time since he’d had a woman on her knees and, really, it would just be rude to say no when she seemed so… _enthusiastic_. Her hands were caressing his thighs, easing them gently apart. She pressed her lips to the zipper of his finely tailored pants and sighed.

“It feels like forever since I’ve done this for you,” she whispered, as Rumple swallowed down a groan. “I’ve missed it terribly.”

“I’m not stopping you, Evie,” he murmured. “Quite the contrary.”

His hands gripped the edge of the cot in anticipation. Evelyn chuckled and he felt her hot breath through the fabric of his clothes. A single finger traced the outline of his stiffening cock, feeding the desire coursing through his veins. She lowered her head and, with no small amount of relish, began to mouth at the bulge in his pants.

“Oh, fuck…”

Rumplestiltskin bit down hard on his bottom lip. He could just about feel the hot, wet bliss of her mouth and it was positively maddening. His right hand cupped the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair in gentle encouragement. Evelyn glanced up from her task, winked and reached for his zipper.

The first touch of her cool fingers on his searing skin was electric. She took his erection in hand, her eyes darkening with animalistic hunger. Rumple gasped. His hips bucked involuntarily into the contact, which only served to widen Evie’s wolfish smile.

“Oh _darling_ ,” she crooned. “Looks like you’ve missed this too.”

Rumple didn’t even attempt to deny it; lying to himself or to her served no purpose here. He simply rolled his hips again, chasing the sensation of her touch. Evelyn dropped her head. Her tongue flicked briefly over the tip of his cock, apparently reveling in the way he twitched with want, before she took him deep into her mouth. A long, low moan issued from Rumple’s throat. His fingers tightened in the blonde’s hair and it was all he could do not to face-fuck her into oblivion. She felt _incredible_. Curse memories or no, almost three decades together meant she knew exactly how to please him. Her tongue caressed the underside of his shaft; her throat fluttered around his sensitive tip. She moaned as she devoured him, sending ripples of pleasure skittering up his spine.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “Oh, _just_ like that.”

Evie smirked around his cock, seemingly pleased with herself. She gave him a long, hard suck, laughing when he moaned, before releasing him with an obscenely wet pop.

“It’s alright, love,” she smiled. “I know what you want. Go ahead. You know I don’t mind.”

Breathing heavily, Rumple stared down at her. Surely she didn’t mean what he thought she did?

“Go on,” she urged him in a whisper, her eyes blazing. “Fuck my face. Do it. Use me like a cheap whore.”

Her words were like a match to gunpowder. With a hiss of delight, Rumple’s hands tightened in Evelyn’s hair. She gasped and he used the opportunity to shove abruptly past her lips. The sound she made was almost as satisfying as the slippery wet friction of her mouth. Her eyes widened, fingers scrabbling at his thighs. Moisture trickled down her cheeks as he began to thrust in earnest, each snap of his hips ripping a groan from his throat.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Oh, that is _so good_ …”

Evelyn’s eyes all but glowed at his praise. She looked delectable like this, entirely at his mercy. He could feel his gut tightening with the need for release and saw no reason to hold himself back. He took her harder, faster, panting for breath as his end drew ever closer. The blonde at his knees moaned and whimpered, only adding to his pleasure.

“You like this, don’t you?” he growled. “Whore. I bet you’re dripping wet.”

Evie made a desperate sound low in her throat. Her eyes were pleading with him, confirming his words to be true, and it was just too much. Rumple came with a hoarse shout. His whole body shuddered as he emptied into her mouth, watched her swallow everything he had to offer. His hand in her hair went slack, trembling. Only once he’d collapsed, gasping for air, against the wall did she sit back on her heels and gaze up at him. She was thoroughly flushed, her hair mussed and cheeks stained with involuntary tears. And yet her eyes… Her eyes burned pride – pride and unfulfilled longing. There was no doubt she’d enjoyed his less-than-tender treatment of her and the very thought made his softening cock twitch with pleasure.

“You’re depraved,” he accused breathlessly, unable to do anything but stare in wonder. Evelyn smirked.

“Oh honey, you knew that when you married me,” she laughed, and she leaned forward, resting her chin on his knee. “So, did that help? Are you still sleepy?”

Rumplestiltskin chuckled and ran a hand through what had to be very disheveled hair.

“Anything but,” he admitted. “Though I’m not entirely sure I can stand up.”

The blonde beamed, tracing tiny, distracting circles around his kneecap with the tip of her finger.

“That’s alright,” she murmured. “There’s nowhere we have to be in a hurry. Though I think it would be wise to get you somewhere more comfortable… maybe keep you awake for just a little longer. Just to be on the safe side, of course.”

She smiled up at him, the expression almost innocent. Rumple smirked right back.

“That doesn’t sound too terrible,” he agreed. After all, he _was_ ever the opportunist.

 


End file.
